Integration of Evil
Danlily - October 29, 2005
Integration of Evil Chapter One: It Begins
She stares into the fire blazing in the hearth, twirling a goblet
bearing the fruits of a very good year. A vision of her aunt
flashes in the back of her mind, a peacefully demented woman
who's face favor's the nightelven branch of the DeStrasza line
called the DeFafnyr's, who the DeStraszas had left behind so long
ago. From that aunt two sisters were born, her cousins Danyx and
Eisabeau, and from Danyx a half troll daughter was born, Danzyn.
"How ironic," she whispers to herself.
She thinks of her own half troll daughter. There is a fondness
there, "but what mother could really love a child with such ugly
feet," she muses. "Ah well, she serves me well and the project
continues to move forward."
"Does it? You've had word from Danji?" her lover asks, having
overheard her whispered musings. He settles himself into an
expensive easy chair next to hers before the fire, propping his
feet up lazily on the overstuffed ottoman before him, displaying
expensive boots bearing silver tips at the toes and heels and
intricate silver scroll work upon them. "Pity, that you had to go
through all that, sacrificing your womb to create such an
abomination, but the scouts we are sending in are coming back
with quite a lot of good information."
"Yes, yes I've had word from Danji. She and the others serve us
well. I expect we will move into the next phase within a years
time now," the bloodelf noblewoman replied. "As for the
sacrifice, well we all had to do our part if we were going to get
enough of an advance force of agents that could look the part of
trolls and orcs. Pity about the Tauren experiments," she sniffs
delicately. "The only difficult part for Danji seems to be
keeping up that odd accent the trolls have. We, of course, had to
raise them here in order to ensure they're loyalty, but it was a
problem giving them the accents and mannerisms they needed to
integrate well. Still, in all, there are few reports of any real
trouble with the agents. I am quite pleased with the results.
Quite pleased, indeed," she finishes raising her goblet towards
her lover.
He responds with a raising of his own glass and tapping hers, the
sound of which resonates in the way that only the best of heavy
lead crystal can muster. He winks at her, she smiles at him, and
together they go back to thoughtful contemplation, staring at a
warm fire laid in a fine hearth in a comfort only the most
refined evil can afford.
On the Question of Evil
A woman with elegant grace turns from a large sunny window, only
to lose her fluidity of movement at a startle that sends her
goblet nearly flying. “Danji! What on Azaroth are you doing
here?”
“I needed to speak with you, mother. I am confused,” replied the
trollish looking girl standing before the bloodelf.
“Confused? What could have you so confused as to leave your
assignment and come all the way back home?” demanded the
bloodelf. Taking in a deep breath and composing herself, her
manner turned to sweetness as she moved to Danji. Nearing the
troll, she reached out and smoothed the girl’s hair. “Ah, my
little one, whatever it is, I’m sure we can figure this out, the
two of us. Come sit with Mother and we will make it all better,
yes?” She crooked her arm in Danji’s and pulled her to an
overstuffed divan “Now, tell me all about it, my child.”
“Well…well, I went to a sort of sermon yesterday. There was a man
there, a Lorekeeper,” Danji started.
“A Lorekeeper? Ahh, I see,” said her mother.
“He talked of the bloodelves. It sounded as though we had done
terrible things, and at the same time had terrible things done to
us. One of the things he mentioned was that we, all the elves,
were once trolls, until the magic changed us. He also said that
we did terrible things to the trolls,” said Danji.
“And here you are, my child, a bit of both,” the mother
interjected, reaching to tuck a strand of the girl’s hair back
behind a pointed ear. “No wonder you are confused.”
“Well I do wonder, once we return to the rest of the world, how
those trolls are going to take us. Can they accept us? I hear the
bloodelves speak of wanting revenge against those in the
Alliance. I hear that we are not evil, that we are merely a race
that has gone through horrible social upheavals. What is to keep
the trolls from wanting revenge against us? What if they block
our aligning with the Horde? When is revenge evil and when is it
justified?" asked Danji.
“The question of evil, of revenge, of motives and history, my
child, is a hard one to answer,” replied her mother, “and it is
always colored by the opinion of whomever is speaking it. Even
among our own race, there is a variety of opinion. True, the
majority of the bloodelves will believe the propaganda we are
going to be presenting to Lady Sylvanus and to them, that is the
truth; and yet within our ranks there are the secret few, those
within our society that have a different bend on what is the
truth. That is where you and I come in, and those other agents
that work within the Horde for our purpose. All one can ever
really do, is have faith in their loved ones, and follow their
hearts. Now tell me, sweet child, what does your heart tell you?”
she asked the troll, looking deeply into her eyes mustering as
much affection as she could to convince the young woman she
called “daughter”.
The young Danji looked into her mother’s eyes, grasping at the
love she believed to be there and smiled tentatively, “ I do not
understand what this secret society of yours is doing, but I
believe in you, Mother. For whatever reason and motives your
secret society has for what you are doing, I believe in you and I
will continue to be loyal.”
Nodding in satisfaction, the mother replied, “Good, then all is
well.” She hugged the young woman and then moving back, her hands
still embracing her daughter’s shoulders, “Now then, is there
anything else you need before you return to your assignment in
Orgrimaar?"
The girl stood, answering her mother, “No, no thank you mother. I
am doing well. I am a bit saddened at what happened to Clys, but
it could not be helped. The other agents and myself are all
integrating well into the population. Clys and I have both joined
the same house, the house of The Grim.”
“You’ve not told them anything have you?” asked the mother.
“No, no, of course not, not until I have my orders to do so. The
fact is I’m rather afraid to do so even after the orders come to
reveal ourselves to the general population. The Grim seem to
enjoy killing elves so much that I’m not quite sure if they will
differentiate a blood elf from a night elf despite the coming
allegiance we will gain with Sylvanus. To some of them, an elf is
an elf regardless," answered Danji.
“Well,” replied her mother thoughtfully, “we will cross that
bridge when we come to it. In the meantime…”
“In the meantime,” Danji answered, "I will continue with my
assignment and report to you at regular intervals. I will miss
you, Mother. It was good seeing you again,” she smiled with a
face full of hope.
The mother replied with a look she thought would most appear to
be one of a mother’s love, “It was good to see you again too, my
little one.”
They embraced one more time and then Danji left the parlor to
return to her assignment in Orgrimmar. The moment the door
clicked closed, a bloodelf male moved from the shadows. “Well,
that was interesting,” he said with a wry tone to the graceful
woman still standing in the center of the room.
She turned to her secret lover, “Yes, yes it was. Do you think
she believed me?”
“She’s too innocent to understand our motives, love. She doesn’t
have enough of the pieces to put it all together. Our own people
don’t have a clue as to what our little group is doing. As long
as they continue to believe, are loyal…yes, I think she still
believes in you,” he answered her with soothing words. “Come,” he
changed the subject, gathering her into his arms. “Lets not think
on it any further today.”
The Golden Lily
If it had been Danji, her white haired daughter standing before
her, there’d have been no foot stomping. Her half-trollish
daughter was very conscious of her feelings in regards to those
large ugly feet. Danji always went out of her way to please her
mother, to try to fit in, to not draw undue notice to her tusks
or her feet. This, however, was not her white haired daughter,
but Danji’s golden haired twin, Danlily. The vexed bloodelf
pinched the bridge of her nose with a sudden headache as Danlily
stomped her big foot once again.
“It’s bad enough I have to wear these rags and pretend to be a
peon. Why, my skin is never going to recover from the heat I
suffered in Razor Hill, and now you want to send me to that den
of rotting corpses they call Undercity? I will not have it! Send
Danji instead of me. She doesn’t care, she sleeps with that pet
of hers most the time and she stinks like that lion all the time.
I won’t suffer the smell of all those walking corpses! I won’t
Mother, I won’t go!” Danlily insisted.
“Darling, you must go. I can’t leave this to Danji. She’s good at
observing basic things but we both know she’s too trusting and
naïve to catch any nuances that might be important. First of all,
the leader of the Grim, what’s his name?” Mother asked.
“Maledictus, his name is Maledictus,” Danlily answered as she
flung herself into a chair, pouting her lip out so far that her
tiny tusks completely disappeared behind the pout.
“Yes, yes, that’s it, Maledictus. Anyway, he’s Forsaken for one
thing, and on top of that, our most intricate negotiations are
going to be with the Lady Silvanus, leader of the Forsaken, in
the heart of the Forsaken, in their Undercity," Mother said,
easing her voice into a persuasive purr. “Do you really think
your sister has the sharpness of mind to catch any trouble that
might be brewing that may be vital to our negotiations?”
Still pouting, Danlily looked sideways at her mother. Her mother
looked sideways at her. “I don’t suppose they keep many baubles
in Orgrimmar or Thunderbluff,” Mother suddenly mused, wrapping a
perfectly manicured finger around an expensive necklace hanging
from her neck, suddenly deep in thought. She moved to the window
as she continued to twist the expensive necklace around her
finger and the sunlight suddenly flashed against the huge stone
held within one of the Mother’s rings. Mother looked sideways
again at her golden child.
“Baubles? No…I don’t suppose…” Danlily looked confused in the
sudden shift of conversation. She watched her mother, caught the
play of light on her mother’s expensive gems as a thought slowly
seeped into that golden head. “Mother,” Danlily asked, “You don’t
suppose Undercity has treasure, do you? I mean, what would
walking undead want with all those riches they had in life?”
“Treasure?” mother purred. “Hmm, well I suppose in such a large
city there might be quite a few caches hidden about, I hadn’t
really thought about it,” Mother added with a wide-eyed innocent
look. “I’ve a thought!” Mother started excitedly, a
conspiritorial edge spicing her voice, “While you’re in Undercity
working for the cause, it wouldn’t hurt anything if you were to
spend a little of your recreation time doing a bit of… treasure
hunting.” Mother moved quickly to the couch, taking her
daughter’s hands into hers. “It will be our little secret. I
won’t tell the others about any of your ‘extra’ findings. After
all, my sweet child,” Mother cooed, “its deserved compensation
for how you must suffer for Quel’Thalas. All the treasure you can
find…is yours!”
Some time later after a good meal and an exceptional bottle of
wine, the bloodelf and her golden child said their goodbyes with
promises by Danlily to call in her regular reports in a timely
manner.
Once again, the secret lover stepped from the shadows, this time
encircling his arm around his lover’s small waist. “Truly your
favorite daughter, isn’t she?” he asked already knowing the
answer.
“They say mother’s shouldn’t have favorites, and they are half
troll after all,” Mother curled her lip as they walked together
into the great hall.
“Pfft, curling your lip won’t convince me, my love. You can’t
help but love that golden one. She’s as calculating and
manipulating as you are, my sweet,” he admonished. Seeing the
family crest up on the wall, the red dragon of DeStrasza he
raised his goblet in salute, “Yes, that one is a talon off the
same dragon, without a doubt.”
Mumsie Dearest
A scroll is delivered in Que'Thalas, sealed in wax with the
symbol of the house DeStrasza.
Dearest Mother,
It’s time to send in my latest report and I do hope this one
finds you well and in good spirits. I have replaced Danji in the
Grim and have effectively made myself at home with them. The more
time I spend with them, the more confused I become. Half of them
seem ripe to let in on the project while the other half seems to
have nothing but bloodlust for any elf regardless of branch. I
must admit, I am not surprised, given that the troll tribes still
fight among each other rather than banding together against the
Alliance. I’ve heard tales of both Alliance and Horde fighting
equally to take down some of the troll tribes in Stranglethorn
but that’s another matter and not the subject of this report. It
does make me curious, on a side note, are you still having any
trouble in Quel`Thalas with those kept in the dark about the
reason behind all the half-breed births or is the battlecry
“abomination” still being bandied about at Tea?
The Grim held a ceremony this past weekend. You’d have enjoyed it
immensely. Evidently someone hacked off one of their Tauren’s
hooves. Apparently it was much sought over as it was polished to
such a sheen that one could use it as a mirror, at least that is
my understanding but as it the deed was done before I arrived in
Horde Central, I never got a look at said hoof and can’t really
comment with any accuracy. Anywhos, apparently the poor Tauren is
a druid and has had to remain in bear form mostly ever since in
order to walk, having nothing but a stump in her normal form. The
Grim’s leader held a ceremony in SunRock. A suitable replacement
was found, I believe some Satyr hoof, though again, I cannot be
sure of that. After an exhilarating sermon, Maledictus grafted
the new hoof onto Snowfeather, that is her name, the Tauren I
mean, Snowfeather. It was a great success, however, she began
speaking in a tongue that while I did not understand it, made my
addiction pull at me so horribly I had to sneak a sip at the vial
I keep with me for such emergencies. I noticed another bloodelf,
full breed bloodelf that is, there in SunRock and noted that she,
too, sneaked a sip from a vial. I chatted with her a bit but was
careful not to reveal myself, not knowing if she was of the
puritists among our people or if she was involved in the project
we are a part of.
After the ceremony, sacrifices were called for to ensure the
proper healing of Snowfeather’s new hoof and we and others from
various guild houses all banded together to take down Nijil’s
Point. It was glorious, Mother, you would have really enjoyed it
all. So much mana filled blood spilt to be feasted upon. I’m sure
the purists would have pooh-poohed the whole thing, but if they
prefer to have their mana unflavored, more for us, I say.
I really do wish other half-breeds in the project would reveal
themselves to me. It can be lonely not knowing the complete
reason for my existence, and even lonelier not being able to
communicate with others who are sharing the same experiences.
I’ve yet to see any other of half-breeds I knew in Quel’Thalas,
but for Danji, of course, and you know she and I never got along
well. That being said, I am heartily ashamed to admit that I have
changed my course of studies. I really wasn’t cut out for a
roguish life. I know you will keep my secret, Mother, but the
truth is I was just plain horrible at it. You know I’ve studied
several disciplines, and well, being sneaky and silent just isn’t
my forte. For one, in order to keep myself from being noticed, I
can’t wear any perfume. I do so very much miss that peach and
lily scent that was created especially for me by your Perfumer.
And then there’s all that hiding of my glorious hair under dark
hoods to keep from being seen. It’s an utter crime to have to
hide what I was gifted with. I’ve noted how much Danji enjoys
that pet of hers, and that white lion does accessorize well with
her own white hair. I was thinking that if she can do it, I can
do it better, of course. So, I have decided to become a huntress.
There will be the difficulty with finding a suitable animal, but
I’ve already decide that when I do find one and decide to keep it
past the “interview” phase, that it will simply have to accept
being bathed in my perfume so that our scents match. As for the
horrible callouses with pulling a bow, there are some wonderful
gloves on the market these days and as long as I generously
slather my hands in my scented lotions, my hands should be fine.
Regular manicuring will be a must, of course, but it’s all for a
good cause, if you say so, and more importantly, I’m being paid
well for it.
Oodles of Love,
Your favorite daughter, Danlily.
Memories in the Moonlight
Danlily lifts a gold chain from her neck, taking the pendant in
hand to caress it, turning it over and over in her hand. On one
side of the golden pendant is an engraved golden lily. On the
other in enameled red stone is the red dragon, Alexstrasza,
patron of the House DeStrasza. Danlily lowers herself onto the
damp grass, the moon bright, nearly bright as day above her. She
clicked the secret catch on the pendant, revealing a mirror
inside the locket. She smiled at her reflection. She had used
this mirror many a time to signal to her roguish lover who would
routinely stay stealthed behind the prey they hunted together,
signaling to her that she would be starting her attack soon.
“My roguish lover,” she said softly to herself, a sadness welling
in her eyes. With a sigh, she popped the mirror from its place
inset in the locket to reveal an etching secreted behind the
mirror. It was a portrait of her and her two lovers together
during happier time, much happier times. She was smiling, an arm
around a nightelf on her left, and a bloodelf on her right. How
had everything gone so terribly wrong? Her bloodelf lover was now
Forsaken with no memory of her two loves. The other, the
nightelf, she looked sadly to the cheetah that traveled
faithfully with her at all times. Kitsu padded over and sat
beside ‘Lily, resting her head on ‘Lily’s knee. “I miss her too,
Kitsu.”
Setting the locket aside, Danlily encircled the druid’s furry
neck with her arms in a tight embrace. “Don’t worry, Kitsu, we’ll
find an answer. We’ll unlock the curse that keeps you in cheetah
form, and as for, well, somehow we’ll find a way to return her
memory to her. Maybe when my mother’s people finalize the treaty
with Silvanus, together we might find a cure for the Forsaken."
She kissed the cheetah on the forehead and then standing up, she
placed the pendant back around her neck and shouldered her bow.
“Maybe she’ll be in the Rest in Peace inn. She may not remember
us, but at least we can be close to her.”
We Are Alone
Danlily sat in the Rest in Peace inn, twirling the neck of the
goblet in her hand as she thought over the last few days. A newly
Forsaken had come by, still thinking herself a High Elf. She had
no clue what a Blood Elf was and Danlily was puzzled where this
woman had been in the years in between. The poor thing’s last
memory seemed to be of the fall of Qual`Thalas. She had no memory
of her people calling themselves Blood Elves now in honor of the
fallen.
More disturbing was the conversation that ensued leading Danlily
to reveal to Clys their past. Clys seemed more concerned over
getting new ears than in finding out about who she was, who her
past friends and family were. Then there was the fishing trip
that disturbed Danlily even more. Danlily laid some of her past
to her fellow Grim in that fishing trip, revealed that yes, she
had known Clys before Clys was Forsaken, that Clys and Danlily
had been lovers, that the two of them and the now cheetah Kitsu
had been three very close women, and yet Clys avoided the
conversation like a rogue avoiding bright lights. Clys kept
changing the subject, blocking the truth with humor, avoiding
anything that might tie her to the conversation and linking her
to Danlily.
Not once between the conversation in the Inn or the fishing trip
did Clys seek Danlily out to find out more. At every turn Clys
avoided the opportunities to learn more about herself, learn more
about Danlily and what they had meant to each other.
Danlily looked down at the cheetah sleeping at her feet, “I guess
we’ve really lost her, Kitsu. I don’t know what’s worse, thinking
we’d lost her to death, or what we have now, she walks around not
only not remembering, but doing all she can to avoid remembering.
First she we thought her dead and away from us forever. Now she’s
walking beside us in the guild and doesn’t want anything to do
with us. She doesn’t care to know. She’s moved on and began
creating a new circle of friends, Kitsu, and that circle doesn’t
include us. Perhaps it’s time we moved on. Perhaps we need to get
on creating our own circle of friends without her.”
Turning the Page
It is said that the psychology of a woman is such that she goes
through the stages of a dying relationship much like the physical
death of a loved one. First there is shock and denial. Then there
is mourning. Then one day she gets sick of feeling sorry for
herself and turns anger on the object of her affection. If
they’re dead, well, how dare they leave them here alone all by
themselves! Why did they leave them? How could they do such a
thing? If the loved one is alive, or a close proximity at least
and it’s merely the relationship that’s died, well hell hath no
fury or so they say, and a woman scorned or spurned with trollish
blood and a high libido no less… well it’s been known to get a
bit messy.
Danlily paced back and forth across an outrageously expensive rug
in her rented room in the seediest part of the city. Sure, she
had to pretend on the outside she was a poor peon, living in the
slums and wearing tattered armor, but in the privacy of her own
space, she had surrounded herself with fine furnishings and
expensive, matching underthings. She crossed her arms across her
chest as she paced, Kitsu lounging on the couch watching Danlily
through half closed eyes.
“She’s too skilled since her undeath to hunt with us anymore?
Fine!” the half-troll complained. “Doesn’t want anything to do
with us? Fine!” she averted more loudly. Turning on her heel
quickly and shaking a finger at Kitsu she exclaimed, “She can
flirt and play cutsey with everyone else but won’t give us the
time of day? FINE! I’m pretty, I’m rich, and dammit, I’m a nice
person!” she stomped her foot like a child throwing a tantrum.
Turning up her nose as she spun towards the door she avowed,
“They say the average troll can mate as many as 80 times a night
while in heat. I’ve some catching up to do!”
And with that, she slammed the door behind her and went hunting
for a different kind of prey.
A page from Clys' Journal
"I'm beginning to remember, just a little. Tonight we attacked
Menethil Harbor. A great group of the Horde came along, in
retaliation of the Alliance attack on the Undercity. Their attack
was tiny and useless. Ours was large, and we laid seige to the
place, preventing anyone from entering or leaving. There was much
bloodshed, and I was happy.
Many of my friends were there, and I felt part of whole, part of
a family. Maybe this is part of what pulled the memories to the
surface. Danlily and Kitsu were there, and as the battle raged I
would catch sight of them, Danlily with her bow, and Kitsu with
her sleek fur and sharp claws. It was as though I saw them with
real vision, not shadow vision. I could see Danlily's golden
hair, and my fingers twitched.
A memory came back to me as I watched them, of my hand grabbing
hold of that golden hair and pulling it back, and Danlily lifting
her head to gaze at me, her eyes submissive. In the memory, I
looked down at her slightly, and I realized that I must have been
much taller then. But that was a fleeting thought. What grabbed
my attention and held it was Danlily's attitude toward my
remembered self. I suddenly understood at least a small part of
what I had been to her, and she to me.
I was the leader. No, I was more than the leader. I was the
master. And she was my slave. I am convinced of this, even though
I know that elves do not keep slaves as a rule. Perhaps it was
not true slavery, and I did not own her. But she acted toward me
in that fashion. She was mine.
I looked then at Kitsu, but the memories there are fainter. I am
sure she was a part of us, the third part of our trio, and that
she also followed me without question. But I have as yet no
memory of her as anything other than a cheetah. Maybe it will
come back to me in time.
In the meantime, however, my purpose is clear. I intend to take
back that which is mine. Death is not sufficient to separate us.
I am still here. And Danlily and Kitsu still belong to me."
---------------------------------------
After writing, Clys arises and goes to find Danlily and Kitsu.
The pair are asleep in their small but comfortable room, and Clys
slips in silently, surrounded by the shadows. She steps up close
to Danlily's sleeping form and breathes deeply, inhaling the warm
scent. Another memory floods back and Clys sees Danlily for a
moment in a vision. Danlily is breathing hard, her eyes closed in
ecstasy.
Clys leans over Danlily and touches her face, running a finger
gently along Danlily's cheekbone. Danlily awakens, her eyes
opening in surprise as she realizes Clys is standing over her.
"Clys?" she whispers? "What are you doing here?"
In response, Clys grabs Danlily's hair with one hand, and pulls
it back, her other hand coming to rest on Danlily's chest.
"I have a job for you, Lily," Clys says, and Danlily's eyes widen
further as she hears the words, the tone of voice. This is the
old Clys!
"Yes, mistress?" Danlily replies, lowering her eyes for a moment.
"What would you have me do?"
Clys grins and lets out a girlish giggle, scratching Danlily
gently under the chin.
"I want you to be...bait."
Transitions
The morning light tried hard to intrude through the dark curtains
as Danlily lay contently next to the sleeping form of Clys. Kitsu
lay sprawled out across the foot of the huge soft bed. They were
all together again and the deepest of Danlily’s worries were
over. A thought made `Lily wrinkle a brow for a moment. Kitsu
seemed less and less aware of ever being anything other than a
cheetah, becoming more animal with each day. “Perhaps that’s for
the best,” `Lily said softly to herself. The fact that Kitsu was
a Night Elf was always troublesome and she definitely fit better
into the whole scheme of things leaving her the way she was. “We
needn’t be in a hurry to find a remedy to your curse, my love.
Besides, if we do and we change you back into your normal form,
there’d likely be a race to see who in the guild house got to eat
you first.” Kitsu opened one lazy cat-eye and looked at Danlily,
not really understanding `Lil’s whispers, and contently went back
to purring as she napped.
Slipping quietly from the bed, ‘Lily moved to the desk and began
writing her report to her mother.
“Dearest Mother,
Most of Clys’ memories have returned, at least the important ones
to me. She remembers Kitsu and I and though that makes me happier
than words can say, for you at least that means that Clys is back
working together with us and I no longer have to carry on my work
alone which, of course, means I will be more efficient in getting
places I would otherwise not be able to tread alone with but
Kitsu. For me it means pure happiness because I love and need
Clys so much. For you, it means greater success in gathering the
information you require so it’s a win-win situation. I do wish
you’d soften your attitude towards Kitsu, though. In the end, she
was working for us even in her true form and feeding us
information from the Night Elves, but even now being merely a
cheetah, she aids us daily to no end.”
“As for my progress of late, there hasn’t been much. Breaking
into the trust of the Forsaken is harder than I anticipated.
There are few other women in The Grim that still have beating
hearts and the circle of Undead females is indeed a tight group.
If our people are going to sign a treaty with Sylvanus, I agree
with you that it is very important to know more about the people
we are going to be aligning ourselves to, however, they are not
very forthcoming. Clys may be able to help with this. Upon
entering The Grim she was met with great welcome and they seem to
like her very much. More and more I fear the only solution is to
come forth with the truth, at least to Maledictus, and I have
thought to in more than one occasion. At the sermon in Sun Rock
there was planned to be a Confessional but as that never came
through, I was never able to confess the truth of my heritage and
why I now live in the lands of the Horde and away from my home in
Quel`Thalas.”
“I know you will argue this point, but I believe Maledictus can
be trusted, and honestly, the agents like myself are not about
spying for ill means but in order to make sure we are welcomed
with at least a neutrality into the Horde and not welcomed with
knives in the back. The trolls, of course, will be troublesome
and there was one troll in The Grim that I feared was going to be
a great deal of trouble when our appearance in these lands come
but he no longer spends time in the halls of The Grim so I’ve no
fear from him.”
“Please, Mother, reconsider and allow me to reveal myself to The
Grim. I truly believe they can be trusted and will not be among
those in the Horde that will fight against our people joining the
Horde. In fact, I am beginning to suspect that there are some
within The Grim that will truly welcome our kind. Would it not be
better to be honest with them? Would it not be better for The
Grim to know there is a treaty in the works so we will have
allies and at least one guild house that will aid us rather than
have to watch our safety at every dark corner of Orgrimmar?”
Love and kisses,
~Danlily
It had been an exceptionally good day of hunting for Danlily and
her Mistress, Clys. Time and time again Danlily would stand wide
open in a field, picking off small prey, looking about innocently
oblivious of any Alliance that spied her and judged her as an
easy kill. Time and time again, she would turn and finally spot
them, making her eyes go wide like a doe caught in the light,
apparently frozen in fear. She was particularly proud of the way
she could make her body tremble as she let out a squeak as an
Alliance would gain on her with boisterous confidence. Time and
time again, Clys would appear from the shadows behind the
Alliance attacker and drop them like the livestock they were.
Clys always took first blood as she preferred hers fresh, but
then Clys, an artisan in alchemy, would carefully collect the
rest to process and reduce the blood so the mana would be more
concentrated for later consumption by Danlily.
Danlily’s mana addiction was nowhere as pronounced as her
mother’s but it was there. She wasn’t sure if Clys had rid
herself of the addiction in her undeath or not but it didn’t
really matter. The DeStrasza’s never had any intention of curing
themselves of something they loved so much and though she was
half troll, DeStrasza blood ran strong in her. Fresh blood as
Clys preferred, or concentrated and aged into a fine bloodwine
the way the DeStrasza’s preferred mattered not. Oh certainly
there were those among the Blood Elves who thought it more
civilized to merely tap the mana bloodlessly from their victims,
but who could argue against the joyful pop of uncorking a
particularly good year’s harvest during winter festival? And who
could truly turn their noses up at a wedding toast given with a
particularly rare and extraordinary bottle that literally fizzed
with excess mana? The DeStrasza’s prided themselves on their
bloodwines, both varieties, those made with grapes from the
DeStrasza’s vineyards and laced with mana soaked blood, and the
vintages without grapes, made purely of concentrated and
distilled mana rich blood. It had made them their fortune and
they would be damned before they’d let any current fad or new
cult try to change their traditions. Why, that would be akin to
forcing vegetarianism on hard-set cannibals and the DeStrasza’s
would have nothing of it. Even it if meant investing some of
their riches into the political arenas to protect their right to
continue with the family tradition of all but bathing in the
blood of their livestock, they would do so.
It was due to this investment that they first became aware that
the leaders of their people were moving towards uniting with the
Forsaken’s Dark Lady. It would be a tricky maneuver, indeed, to
bring the Blood Elves into the fold of the Horde, especially with
all those years of bloodshed and hatred between them and the
trolls. Joining with the Forsaken could either unite or tear
apart the fragile trust that held the horde races together and it
was Danlily’s job, and the job of other agents like herself to
insert themselves into the Horde and see what the climate was
among the followers of Thrall and Cairne, find out what the
people really felt in hopes to gauge what reaction they would
have when their leaders announced that the truce with the Blood
Elves was to become fact. At present, things did not look good.
Rumors of the impending treaty had been carefully and purposely
leaked in order to gauge the reaction. At least half the
reactions by the common people were not good, not good at all.
Many swore that regardless of the fact that their leaders would
tell them to welcome the Blood Elves, if that day ever came they
would welcome the “long-ears” with well-placed blades and nothing
more.
More and more often Danlily felt uneasy with keeping her true
purpose from Maledictus, the leader of The Grim. His sermons
stirred such emotion in her, her belief in The Grim had grown so
strong, and she could not imagine that her purpose could be at
odds with her guild brethren. She pleaded with her mother to
allow The Grims to be made aware of the truth of the coming
Treaty. More and more there seemed absolutely no reason why her
knowledge should be kept from Father Maledictus. For all she
knew, Father Maledictus already knew the truth. Who knew how deep
his influence spread into the circles of the Dark Lady and her
court? If his Dark Lady and Danlily’s leaders were to unite in a
treaty, than their courses ran together and there was no reason
to not reveal her purpose, at least to Father Maledictus.
A knock at Danlily’s door roused her from her thoughts and she
opened it to find an undead messenger. He handed Danlily a small
scroll bearing the wax seal of the House DeStrasza. She handed a
tip to the undead messenger and closed and bolted the lock on the
door, moving quickly to a candle and with a long, sharpened
fingernail she slit the seal from the scroll and began to read.
”My dearest Danlily,
I hope you are well and I am happy with the news that Clys’
memories are returning to her. I cannot say that I am happy that
you insist on keeping that druid cat with you, but we do, indeed,
have great confidence in Clys and now that she has returned you
to her side, we will turn our faith in her judgment. We wish you
to tell her of your mission there. We understand your position
with her and considering the name of her House, we are quite
pleased with your continued union and approve of the relationship
between our Houses, despite the nature of your…bond.
Once Clys has been brought back up to speed on the plans, we will
leave it up to Clys to decide if this can be brought forth to
Maledictus. He may consider it a bonus to be forewarned and aware
of what is to come. If he can accept that a half-breed Blood
Elf/Troll is already living within the halls of The Grim, he may
be accepting of the rest of us when we arrive. He may, however,
turn you out on your half-pointy ears if not hang you by them. We
are not there and cannot judge the situation clearly. Bring all
this to Clys. Let her decided if you and she are to reveal
yourselves to Maledictus. We will stand by whatever your Mistress
decides.
Your loving mother”